Month: September 2012

  • One Year

    Today is Adam’s and my one year anniversary.

    I woke up a vase full of beautiful yellow daffodils, pink daisies, orange carnations, and purple lilacs.  In a few hours he will come and pick me up and take me to an amazing sushi restaurant – something way out of his budget that he’s been saving for weeks.

    Otherwise today feels like any other Sunday.  I woke up late, had an interview, and now I’m struggling my way through an engineering assignment with a cup of now-cold coffee next to me.  Outside the sky is a uniform gray-blue, the magpies are chattering, and I can just barely see the painted G on South Table Mountain.  I feel calm.  As I told my counselor Friday during our session, this is the first time I can ever remember not having something to talk about.

    I’m in love.  I’m happy.

     

    Life’s good.

     

    May

  • The Boys of Summer

    I feel it in the air, the summer’s out of reach

    But what a summer…

     

    Adam left, and the floor slid from under my feet.  He had been my strength through all of my recovery – he had been there with me, nearly every moment of every day, since the August before.  I defined myself through him.  He was my motivation, my joy.

    He was gone.

     

    I tried to talk to my parents about it – they rolled their eyes and told me to suck it up.  My counselor suggested I find new friends in Kansas City.  No one seemed to understand that for me, there was no point having so much free time if I couldn’t spend it with him.

    So for the fourth summer in a row, I chose to lifeguard.  More than that, I chose to make an effort to befriend my coworkers.

     

    Every time I worked the night shift, we ended early to play on the slides.  Afterwards would be Chipolte or frozen yogurt.  The day or morning shift might end in a shopping spree.  I worked 40 hours a week, but despite the humid, 100+ degree Kansas City heat, I loved it.

    I all but stopped texting Adam – which he barely noticed.  He had always struggled with communication while we were apart.  Truthfully, I all but stopped needing him.

     


    This summer gave me a chance to discover who I was outside of a relationship – something I had never done in my entire life.  It taught me to make my own plans, rather than stick to the comfort of staying in with Adam.

    But…

    I met Chris.

     

    And he stood out.

    He moved in to fill that void created by Adam.

    He was funny, and by that I mean he could keep me on my toes – something no man has ever been able to do.  Our banter lasted all day, every day.  Working, texting, our evenings together (there were many).  He was care free, yet I felt he could take care of me.  For once, I wasn’t planning every evening, controlling everything.  I could just breathe.

     

    I didn’t cheat on Adam with Chris.  Despite our nearly non-existent contact, I remained Adam’s.

     

    For weeks after I returned to Colorado, I still wondered what if…what if I had taken a chance with the rather reckless “bad boy”?  What if I had let go of my caregiver for someone who seemed much more of an equal player?

     

    It’s something my old self would have gone for.  I would have left Adam in the dust and swung from one vine to the next.  I am not proud of it, but that’s been my MO since I started dating at the age of 14.  But instead, Adam and I drove together to Colorado…and, together, we worked hard to restore the cracks in our relationship.  Because there were many.  When we first got to Colorado, all I could think about was Chris.  That I didn’t feel that romantic high with Adam like I had with Chris.  Everything about Adam unnerved me – I felt somehow above him.  I am grateful that has passed – and that Adam was patient with me.  He accepted that after months without him, I didn’t know how to incorporate him back into my life and didn’t pressure me or make me feel guilty for it.

    But I stuck with it – and so did he.  And it’s an on-going process that brings us so much joy.  We are closer now, more open now, than before.

     

    Because it wasn’t Adam’s fault that we weren’t equal players – it had been mine.  For needing him to take care of me during my recovery, rather than be my romantic partner.  Now that I can stand on my own, it’s a whole new experience.

     

    Men aren’t disposable.

     

    I’m glad I finally understand that some things are worth fighting for – not trading in.

    ^ us on my birthday ^

     

    May